In the silence of every forgotten alley, remnants of conversations linger, etched in the air like invisible ink. Tales of what was, and what might have been, drift among the crumbling structures of an era yet unwritten.
Sunlight dances upon the faded murals that speak of futures erased by the mundane. The clock tower chimes its hollow tune, a reminder of time not lost, but never unfolded.
Beneath the cobblestones lies the dust of tomorrow, buried deep by hands that wished to sculpt the present from fragments of ancient dreams. Here, histories mirror, a palimpsest of stories unfinished.
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